


Darling, It's Better Down Where It's Wetter

by AndreaLyn



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Mermaids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, maybe it would’ve been okay if Steve could accept the fact that Danny didn’t remember the whole ‘you’re a mermaid’ business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for Carly. I'd apologize for the combination of mermaids, soulmates, and amnesia in one, but I'm pretty sure I achieved some kind of bingo with it.

When Steve tells the Governor he’s found something to change his mind, he isn’t talking about the investigation, doesn’t give a damn about the box (not as much as he’ll come to) and he’s only attentive of the man standing in front of him. Danny Williams, who doesn’t recognize him – who’s flashing his badge around and looking right at home with the Honolulu Police force.

Steve knows better.

He _knows_ Danny Williams and the planes and angles of his body. He knows the man in front of him vividly and intimately, but Danny has no idea who Steve is. The doctors had said the amnesia might fade, but it’s yet to do anything of the kind. Steve’s been waiting a year for Danny to wake up and remember Steve, along with the other facts of life.

Facts such as the tendency for Danny’s legs to turn to fin and tail the moment they’re adequately submerged by water. The official term is _mermaid_ , but Danny had always hated Hans Christian Andersen for that one – at least, he had when he remembered what he was.

Now, here he is, bitching and ranting and he’s every bit the Danno that Steve knew before, but he doesn’t remember anything about his life and he’s concocted some kind of wife-and-child scenario to bask in. Steve tries to nod along as Danny rants on about Grace and his ex-wife – people who don’t exist – and can’t help his look of shock when Danny starts in on a rant about swimming.

“You don’t swim?”

“I swim,” Danny insists sharply. “I swim for survival, not for fun.”

And then he’s off on another topic and somehow they get back to New Jersey and it’s _exactly the same as before_ , but Danny keeps complaining about how much he hates the water and the beach and the comforting lull of the waves as they pass you by.

 _How little you know_.

* * *

Before the accident, Danny had always been the more eager of the two of them for a swim, provided the hour of day was suitable. Danny loathed getting up early, but loved a sunset swim. He would coax Steve closer to the shore with kisses and teasing touches to the skin of his hip, just above the ridge of his tail and scratch his nails along the edge – fully aware of the kinds of sensations they would evoke in Steve.

Steve could count on several things as sure-fire, in his life. The sun would rise and set, his sister would be a pain in his ass, and Danny Williams would give him the smuggest shit-eating grin every time Steve inhaled a sharp breath as a result of Danny’s ministrations.

“Danny, we’re not really supposed to be doing this so close to shore,” Steve always forced out through gritted teeth. Their kind is still somewhat hidden in the shadows and calling attention to themselves before they _shifted_ is a bad idea – possibly one of the worst, because the last thing they need is to be called up before a council of elders. “Danno,” Steve says, jaw tensing when Danny doesn’t pay any fucking attention.

“C’mon, babe, let’s go for a swim.”

Danny may have forgotten, but Steve swears he never will.

He’ll always remember the way the sun casts shimmering light off Danny’s iridescent blue tail as he swims shallow along the sea, turning nearly silver when the moon first peaks out. Steve could forget every last bit of himself, but he will never forget that image and will never forget how Danny had looked at peace as the waves lapped over his fins and gills. It had always put Danny in a content mood and that had, in turn, made Steve happy.

* * *

So, maybe it would’ve been okay if Steve could accept the fact that Danny didn’t remember:

A) The whole ‘you’re a mermaid’ business (which Danny’s family is starting to get impatient with, what with their impending visit growing closer by the day)

and,

B) That he’s been with Steve for years before this – that the ring on his finger doesn’t belong to some figment of his imagination, but wholly to Steve.

It’s been a year since Danny forgot the most important things about him. Danny’s parents have tried to get Steve to understand that Danny’s stubborn (as if he doesn’t know) and that he shouldn’t waste his life. He should move on.

It’s easier said than done considering that mermaids mate for life and Danny’s had Steve wrapped up in his goddamn gorgeous tail since the day they met.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Danny transferred from the New Jersey police department to Maui three years ago to be closer to the Pacific Ocean. The old myths talk about how you know _instantly_ when you meet your mate, but that hadn’t been the case for Steve and Danny. They met while Steve was in the area to train other mermaids who had enrolled in the Navy and Danny had been trying to put away a scumbag behind bars – the worst kind, who preyed on SEALs and soldiers alike.

They’d met because Steve was Danny’s inside contact.

For the first week, Steve couldn’t even tell that Danny was one of his kind. He blames the ties. No self-respecting mer wears _ties_ like that. It chokes off the ghost-presence of gills, but Danny insisted on it out of professionalism (one more thing that the amnesia hasn’t changed). Then, come week two, their killer went for one of Steve’s men during a water drill.

Danny punched Steve in the face, kneed him in the groin, tied him up, and then stripped down until he was naked.

As far as third-meetings went, it was possibly the best one Steve had ever had. He'd been ashamed to say that even in as much pain as he'd been in, he was still aroused as Danny tightened the knots around his wrists and instructed him to stay put.

“What are you going to do? I’m the...” Steve had bellowed after Danny and watched with fascination as Danny took a dive off the port side of the boat. The moment he was fully submerged, he twisted his body in a corkscrew and as he darted off after the killer, Steve watched the way the light plays off Danny’s tail.

 _Danny’s tail_.

“Fuck,” Steve had spit out in shock, trying to escape the ropes before Danny got back. They'd been tight, but not impossible, like Danny had taken a hobby course on knots -- which was just another detail that had Steve absolutely fascinated.

(Later, when they’re investigating Steve’s father’s murder and Doran and Danny punches him in the face, Steve feels strangely passionate about getting an anniversary card to mark the occasion. Important things tend to happen in Steve’s life after Danny decks him)

When Danny came back ashore, he was naked and dripping wet and had managed to get cuffs on the perp. No one died, no one was even hurt (besides Steve’s balls, his jaw, and a couple of scratches on Danny’s face).

Steve had never been more in love in his life.

He'd called his father later that night and asked him to repeat the stories that Steve’s parents told him and Mary as children. He's always known every detail in this story, but he asked just to make sure that what he was feeling wasn’t some lust-addled reaction to meeting a guy who doesn’t balk at Steve’s ‘intense Rambo face’.

John had confirmed that it was real, powerful, and that it sticks.

Steve was absolutely fucked.

It’s worse how giddy he'd been over the fact. He called Danny up the next day to ask him out for coffee. Danny refused on the basis that he had ‘no immediate need for a gung-ho crazy asshole in his life’. Steve thought that was a perfectly acceptable excuse, then, to kidnap Danny and bring him down to Maui’s best private beach.

In retrospect, maybe the blindfold and knots were a bit much, but Steve wanted to show Danny how it’s really done.

“Are you insane?” Danny spits out angrily. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Our perp is behind bars, I don’t need your help, you can go away!” Danny’s practically crimson in the cheeks and when Steve chances a look lower (he can’t help the fact that Danny has a _magnificent_ ass), he can tell that Danny’s straining at the seams of his trousers.

For all his shouting, Danny wants him back. Hell, maybe _because of_ the shouting.

Steve keeps Danny tied in knots, wading back into the water until he’s hip deep.

“Watch,” is all he says, serious as the grave. He keeps inching backwards and unbuttons his jeans, letting his legs fuse together easily until he’s digging his fins into the sand in order to stay vertical – just enough so that Danny can see the glint of the sun off of his tail.

He sees the _moment_ that Danny realizes. He even pretends that he can see Danny mouthing ‘oh thank god’. He definitely sees the way Danny’s angry look has turned to a passionate kind of lust as Steve wades to the shallows and shifts his tail back to legs. “Untie me,” Danny insists hoarsely. “Or I swear to god, you’re getting punched again and I’m not gonna be so nice this time.”

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

Danny doesn’t remember a damn thing, though.

Steve tries to coax it out of him. He invites Danny to the beach time and time again, but the response is always the same:

“I like sand in my shorts about as much as I like seeing you outside of work.”

“So,” Steve replies to that. “A lot?”

The glare he receives from Danny is definitely worth it.

He even tries the stupidest of ideas. All it takes for a mer’s tail to twitch forward and feet to turn to fins is full submerging. The minute that water comes in contact with Danny up to the hips for at least a full thirty seconds is all it’ll take for Danny to realize that he’s not _like_ anything else in the world. Sure, he’ll have a freakout of Danno-proportions, but it’ll be worth it for the first step in remembering. So Steve suggests a bath.

The reaction is, predictably, sour. “What, you wanna pour bubbles, too?”

So the beach is out, tandem bathing was never on the table, and Steve’s quickly running out of options. They work through cases in perfect synchronicity. Danny makes jokes about the tail Steve’s hiding and Steve responds with an enigmatic smirk that drives Danny absolutely nuts. They work with their team and Chin and Kono are never the wiser that Danny and Steve are something more – that Steve’s tattoo on his back is a brand Danny had chosen for him when they realized they were going to be spending a lot of time together.

Then, _then_ , Steve can’t hide it.

“You’ve done this before?” Danny’s shouting at him, a ship looming tall above them and a hostage situation making everything worse than before.

Steve can sense the water and the way it laps to shore. It’s practically beckoning to him like a siren’s song and Steve’s clueless as to how Danny can’t _feel_ that. If nothing else – if Danny can’t remember his life, his partnership with Steve, his whole being – how can he ignore the way the sea sings to him?

“Danny,” Steve gets out with heavy frustration. “Danno,” he adds with a huff. “Just shut up and watch me. _Watch me_.”

He takes pleasure in hearing Danny’s sharp intake of breath when Steve’s legs shift and Steve takes a moment to vindictively splash Danny with water from below before he focuses on the mission alone. When he returns to shore, Danny’s staring at Steve like he’s a cross between the monster under Danny’s bed and the centerfold in his favourite men’s magazine.

Steve’s not sure how to feel about the fact that he’s pretty damn pleased about that.

“What the fuck was that?” Danny hisses as he hauls Steve aside, his fingers flexing rapidly as he clenches the wet fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Though he’d put it on after he emerged from the water, he’s still dripping wet and it’s soaking through the fabric from his skin. Danny’s fingertips are practically brushing against Steve’s sternum, close as he is. “What the hell are you?”

Steve, having lost his patience over a year ago, shoves Danny off of him.

“Maybe you’d know if you ever paid attention.”

He clenches the Camaro keys tightly into his palm, gratified when they practically cut into his skin and seem to match the slow burn of anger he’s got going. It’s not Danny’s fault that an asshole shoved him so hard that he fell back and lost a whole side of his identity, but Steve’s getting tired of blaming some higher power.

He doesn’t go to work the next day.

Or the next.

He probably wouldn’t even go in after that, but his plans are wrecked by the fact that Danny Williams is at his door with a paper bag in his hands. It smells suspiciously of Steve’s favourite omelette from the diner down the road (egg whites and spinach with mozza) and peeking out of the top is a bottle of booze.

Steve hesitates at the door, his hand leaning on the latch. “Danny,” he warns in a growl.

“Hey, are you done being a sulking infant? Lemme in, you owe me an explanation. I’m your partner.”

The breakfast, the booze, and _Danny_ are all good enough reasons to open the door and let him in. It’s just that there’s a contrary voice in Steve’s mind nagging him that Danny doesn’t know the full meaning of how they’re partners and he doesn’t deserve to come back home. Steve’s tired of hiding away the photos and Danny’s things. He’s tired of lying about his goddamn life to his best friends.

It’s why Steve releases the door handle and wanders back inside without unbolting the door.

He shouldn’t be surprised to hear the door clicking open, he shouldn’t find it a shock that Danny is willing to let himself in, but he does find it in him to be furious at Danny presuming he can just wander into Steve’s life like this. “Hey,” Danny says, taking something that look suspiciously like a swimsuit from the bag, flicking it in Steve’s direction. “Put those on and go outside. We’re going swimming.”


	4. Chapter 4

Steve’s fairly sure that it’s impossible to have a heart attack this young, but it’s what he suspects of happening the minute that Danny takes a swimsuit out of the bag. Danny wants to swim -- _Danny wants to go swimming_. Steve must look shocked, because Danny crosses the room and pinches Steve on the neck.

“What the hell, Danny?” Steve snaps, grabbing at Danny’s hand and twisting it up out of instinct.

Danny rolls his eyes, not even vocally reacting to the ninja-move (which is definitely abnormal for Danny). “Are you done trying to hurt me? Put the swimsuit on, I did some reading and I want to see what you look like when you’re out there with that…” He gestures with his hands, like he’s actually afraid of saying the word.

“My tail?” Steve prompts.

He realizes, two moments too late, that there’s only one swimsuit and Danny’s given it to Steve.

Steve lets out a helpless scoff, shaking his head in disappointment as he clutches the shorts in his hands. “You’re not coming in with me,” he says, the epiphany sinking in and hurting a hell of a lot more than he expected it to. He hasn’t swum with Danny in a long time and it’s started to burn every part of him. He misses Danny in his life, but more than that, he misses Danny’s presence next to him when he goes for his morning and his nightly swims. “God _dammit_ , Danny,” Steve gets out through his gritted teeth. “I don’t understand how you don’t _feel_ it.”

Danny’s watching him attentively and Steve can practically feel his skin itching with Danny’s gaze on him.

“What aren’t I noticing, Steve?”

“Don’t you ever get frustrated with the fact that you’re making up a life as you go?” Steve says heatedly. His tact has vanished in the face of his irritation. “You talk about an ex-wife who _doesn’t exist_. You created a daughter for, as far as I can tell, no other reason than to stop feeling lonely. Danny, don’t you ever wonder why your life is so blurry if you try and reach back past eighteen months.”

Danny’s jaw is tense and Steve recognizes that look.

It’s Danny’s ‘you’re about to get a fist in your face’ look.

Hell, at this point, Steve would almost welcome it. At least it would be familiar, at least it would feel like Steve has some part of Danny back instead of this imposter walking in his shoes.

“You’re pushing it, Steve,” Danny warns.

“Can’t you feel the way the sea shouts at you? When you’re lying in bed, can’t you hear the sea singing to you? Because I can, Danny. I can hear it and I can hear the siren song under it that always brings me back to you. Call it myth,” Steve is practically shouting now, “but I’ve witnessed it. It’s real and you can’t see any of it. Do you know how much that pisses me off, Danny?”

“So what? What are you saying, Steve?” Danny snaps. “What do you want?”

Steve balls up the swimsuit in his hands and pelts it right back at Danny. If Danny doesn’t want to do it, that’s fine, but Steve isn’t about to sit around and give in to Danny’s whims of curiosity. “I want you to swim with me,” Steve says. “Put that on and swim with me.”

“Is this some kind of kink?” Danny asks. “So you can do something with your tail?”

Steve digs blunt nails into his palm as he grits his teeth. “Danno,” he growls in warning.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll put it on, but when I do, _before_ you set foot or fin in the water, you and me are gonna clear some things up, okay?”

 _Things_. It sounds perilous and dangerous.

Steve says as much aloud. “Danny, what are you talking about?” he asks with exasperation. It can’t be the fact that Danny has suppressed all memories of being something other than human, so what’s left?

Danny licks his lips and gives Steve a lingering look and in an instant, Steve realizes what they haven’t been talking about.

“That,” Steve says, gaze stuck on the way Danny is gnawing at his lower lip. “Yeah, that.” He takes in a deep breath to stop himself from pushing Danny against the wall and taking what he’s been stopping himself from even thinking about. “Danny, look…think about two years ago,” he says, calmly. “Get those memories back and get them in clear order. The rest will all fall into place, I _swear_.”

“That’s a hefty promise, McGarrett.”

“You know what? I think it is,” he agrees. “And I think when you remember, you’ll realize why I said so.”

“Until then, swimming, huh,” Danny says, looking at the swimsuit in his hand with distaste.

It’s ridiculous, but it’s such a _Danny_ reaction that it’s got Steve grinning away like an idiot, even if they’re no closer to Danny remembering who he is or what Steve actually means to him. The ocean is beckoning and Steve knows they could be moments away from it all flooding back or just mere minutes away from Danny going catatonic in shock.

Either way, Steve’s gonna be there every second of it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost over.

Steve manages to get Danny to the shore in a swimsuit before the protests start. As far as Danny’s concerned, it’s practically a miracle of epic proportions. Considering it’s taken eighteen months to even get this far, Steve ought to be cracking open a couple beers. Maybe closer to Danny’s accident, Steve could have done that.

Hell, he would have been elated.

As it is, they’re long past the point where Steve can grin and bear any more of Danny’s frustrating moods. Eighteen months after Danny’s accident, Steve is still without a mate and forced to work with him on a daily basis. He’s forced to watch the way Danny fidgets with his ties and how he can see that sliver of tantalizing neck every time Danny takes off the tie and unbuttons his shirt before he heads home.

And now, on the shore, they’re standing there in swimsuits only, with arms crossed, and something looming gigantically between them.

“So,” Steve says, his gaze drifting from Danny to the water.

As close as they are, the proximity is beginning to make Steve itch just beneath his skin. Once more, he marvels at Danny’s ability to ignore something like this. On the other hand, Danny has always had a stubborn way of ignoring even the loudest of signals.

Danny reaches forward to forcibly tip Steve’s chin back to him, making him pay attention. “Look, do you wanna talk about the big, gay, pink elephant in the room or are we gonna go into the water so you can Hans Christian Mermaid me,” he says.

Steve winces at the unfortunate word-choice.

“Danny, listen,” Steve says, panic beginning to creep in as he starts to factor in what’s bound to happen the minute he gets Danny deep enough and the change starts to come on. “I know that in our time as partners, you haven’t set foot in the water. Before we do, I want you to make me a promise.”

“I promise not to hum Under the Sea at you,” Danny says with a smirk.

“I’m serious, Danny,” Steve snaps at him.

Danny sobers up at the tone Steve’s taken with him. For the most part, Steve tries to hold his tongue, but there are _occasions_ upon which Danny tends to get the angry side of Steve, as if he’s summoned him from the deep. “Okay, Steve,” Danny says, calm – placid, practically. “What am I promising you?”

“Don’t panic. I’ll be there the whole time.”

It’s vague, it’s cryptic, and Steve hates it. At the same time, though, he understands that going into more detail will do little more than get Danny to laugh at him. It’s one thing for Danny to believe that Steve is mer-folk. It’s another entirely to ask Danny to believe that beyond the haze of memories he’s created for himself, he’s one, too.

“Okay, well, babe, you make me panic,” Danny says frankly as he gestures to the water. “But, after you. I will do all my not-panicking in your general vicinity.”

Steve watches him warily, but he knows that this is the end of a long road. There’s no shying away from the consequences he faces, now. At the end of today, he could either have Danny back with him, he could alienate him completely, or he could have some version of Danny stuck all the way in between.

With his toes in the water, he waits for Danny to follow.

It’s going to take full submersion of the legs before the change begins and Steve remembers all-too-well that panicky feeling of legs fusing together for the first time. The siren song of mate and sea rings loudly in his ears, but he pushes it away to get behind Danny and grip hold of his waist, marching him in deeper.

“Hey,” Danny exhales, his voice rough. “Thought we were talking about this later.”

Steve grips tighter and splays his palms flush against Danny’s bare skin as he walks him deeper. “Trust me?”

“Against my better judgment, I do,” Danny says.

Steve takes a step back in order to brace for the change. He’s been hip-deep for thirty seconds and there’s no fighting it off, now. Though he’s further away, he steadies his hands on Danny’s waist as he feels the skin beneath his fingertips begin to slide from softness to a slickness born of scales.

“Steve?” Danny calls out.

“Danny, you’re panicking,” Steve warns him calmly. “I’ve got you,” he promises, gripping on tighter. “I’ve got you, Danno, I’ve got you. I didn’t know how to tell you,” he speaks as the transformation begins and swiftly takes course. “I tried. Danny, I swear to god, I tried. You kept ignoring me and you refused to swim. I tried to tell you that this is who you are, that this is what you’re meant to be, _with me_ , but you never listened.”

Danny Williams, of course, is nothing if not a pain in Steve’s ass. Not one to start listening, Danny manages to slip away from Steve’s grasp. The last expression on Danny’s face that Steve manages to catch is one of panic, horror, and grief. It’s all he sees before Danny bolts under the waves for the depths of the trenches.

Steve curses swiftly and takes chase.

Maybe, at the end of today, he’s not going to have Danny at all.


	6. Chapter 6

Nature, as a general rule, is wary of merfolk. They’re dangerous and ought to be left alone. That hasn’t stopped a good number of hungry sharks from taking a go at their kind, but for the most part, they’re safe in their natural habitat. The problem is that Steve has no idea whether Danny can remember what he is and all the learnings that come with it.

For hours, he does nothing but swim in parallel lines to the shore in search of Danny. His tail works harder than he’s ever worked it, but still there’s no sign of Danny. He searches until dusk, but there’s no sign of him. By the time Steve makes it back to his private shore, he’s already working on calling Chin to procure a helicopter in order to search the waters.

“Hey, babe, was wondering when you’d get back.”

Danny.

Danny, on the beach, in his chair, drinking _Steve’s_ beer. Steve must look like he’s about to stroke out, because Danny is instantly on his feet to get closer. He reaches both hands to cup Steve’s neck and haul him down, pressing a slow kiss to Steve’s lips. It lingers the way that all of Danny’s kisses used to and for a moment, Steve feels like he’s no longer adrift.

He’s _home_.

“You _remember_?” Steve accuses. “I’ve been out there searching for you for _hours_ and you’ve been here, sipping on beer? Daniel…”

“Ooh, boy, the big guns…”

“This is not okay,” Steve growls, barely paying attention to the interjection. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

“Well, a good knock to the head, for one,” Danny offers as he settles back into the chair. “Don’t even begin to tell me that you’re about to blame me for getting a hit to the head and forgetting things. Look, I know it was hard…”

“Danny,” Steve growls. “You forgot everything.”

It’s been hell having to live without a mate, essentially, for over a year of his life. Now, Danny’s back and he thinks that he can placate him with just kisses? Another part of Steve is kicking himself for being so oblivious that he didn’t force Danny into the water sooner. Steve could’ve had him back ages ago if only he’d been more forceful.

Though, if he had been, he’s not sure how forgiving Danny might be.

The siren song is as clear as ever in his mind, but Steve doesn’t let it sing him into a stressful state. Now that Danny knows, he allows the song to calm his nerves. His itchy trigger finger calms, the need to bust down a door or two to cope with Danny’s amnesia fades. Steve feels --

“Better, babe?” Danny asks, smirking.

“You left me,” Steve accuses. It doesn’t have a great deal of heat to it, but it’s not lacking, either. “You left me and some empty-headed version of you took his place.” He hears Danny’s choked whines of protest, but overrides them to keep speaking. “I swam alone for so long and I don’t even know how you ignored the sea. You _invented_ a wife and child, Danno!” he says, bitter about that.

“Look, I just knew that I was loved, okay? In my haze,” Danny says, gesturing to his general hair-area, “I made something up. What do I have to do to make all this up to you? Huh? Where do I start?”

Steve’s gaze drifts out towards the sea.

When he looks back to Danny and catches his gaze, he already knows that Danny is aware of _exactly_ what he expects. It’s enough to make Steve grin like a dolt – they’re back to this awareness, this ability to practically read each other’s minds.

Steve reaches out and tugs on Danny by the shoulder, hauling him in so he can press his forehead to his mate’s, indulging in the connection that’s been defunct for far too long.

“So, race in the water to the harbor?” Danny suggests with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, a bit breathless at the heady contact he has with Danny right now. He closes his eyes and lets the feeling of belonging race over him, swift as a current, and now he feels like he’s right back at home. “Yeah, but I’ll go easy on you. It’s been a while since you changed, after all.”

“Please,” Danny scoffs. “I was always swifter. You, you, babe, you do the long distances. I’m a sprinter.”

“Guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

They hurry to strip off the last of whatever clothes remains between them, standing on the water’s edge when Danny reaches out and brushes his fingers over the bare skin of Steve’s unchanged hip. “Hey,” he says, a soft smile on his face. “I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass, thank you for being as patient as a McGarrett can be and one more thing…”

“What’s that, Danno?”

“I love you and I’m gonna kick your ass up and down the island,” Danny informs him and then he’s off like a shot into deeper waters, tail flicking salt-water back in the direction of the shore and spraying Steve _fully_ in the face.

“Your ass is mine, Williams,” Steve shouts after him, which is all the warning he’s giving before he’s off after him as they swim through the welcoming waters of the Pacific, knowing that when they get home, he’s getting Danny for keeps from now on out.


End file.
